


Amorous Hero

by z0mbieshake



Category: sweet pool
Genre: Abduction, Depression, High School, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Pheromones, Rescue, Torture, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 20:58:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/z0mbieshake/pseuds/z0mbieshake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place after the Zenya ending. Youji is now Zenya's sex slave. No one knows where he is but Makoto will find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amorous Hero

If he closed his eyes, Youji believed he could escape into his dreams. If he lost consciousness, Youji believed he could go back to a time before his life was torn apart. If he was beaten and raped to the psychological breaking point, to the point where shame and grief could no longer be felt, Youji could exit his shameful reality for just a brief moment and experience freedom. To Youji, unconsciousness became bliss.

With his eyes shut, Youji tried to shut down the throbbing pain rippling through his violated body. He tried to ignore the bindings around his arms and legs that dug brutally into his weak flesh. He tried to ignore the bile bubbling at the base of this throat, threatening to spill out from his violated lips.

With a single touch from a cold, unfeeling hand, his concentration shattered. His eyelids slowly, painfully parted to look upon his cruel captor. His new master.

“Youji will be with me forever, won’t you?” Zenya spoke in a child-like tone. His innocence was poison to Youji, “Yes you will. You’ll make me very happy, won’t you?” The perverse hand traced Youji’s visage, memorizing the feel of each crevice upon Youji’s pain-stretched face.

Then he stood, leaving Youji bound on the cold, cement ground. A ruffling came from Zenya as he fixed his clothing. The pins upon his shirt jangled as he tossed it over his shoulders. In mere moments, Zenya was fully dressed as if it were another casual day for him. Youji couldn’t help but examine his clothing. There Zenya was dressed as if nothing had happened. On the other hand, there he lay in a dilapidated green kimono decorated with shimmering white flower stencils spoiled by the polluted scent of sex and sweat.

Youji swore he had seen this kimono upon Chrissie.

Chrissie, Zenya’s pet lizard

Zenya’s pet.

A pet.

 Youji was disturbed so deeply by this thought that he let out a strained cry. He didn’t understand why. Of all the atrocities Zenya brought upon him, of all the ways his body and mind had been debased so violently, it was this thought that brought his mind to the peak of its psychological strain. He struggled fruitlessly against his bonds disregarding the captor that stood disapprovingly before him. His voice was coarse and strained but still he tried to scream. All he managed to strain out was a weak yelp, almost like a dog.

“Be a good boy while I’m gone,” A shrill giggle and a quick kiss to his temple pushed Youji back into submission. He collapsed to the ground unmoving except for the heavy breaths pumping through his chest.

Youji watched as Zenya skipped joyfully up the rickety stairs. The snaps and creaks of the stairs sent fearful tremors rippling through his body. It was a sound that always preceded the appearance of his brutal master. Now, just the mere snap of wooden flooring sent Youji in a cold sweat, his body preparing to beg for mercy from his master.

Why did this happen? Why did this happen to him? He couldn’t help but long for the days before all of this began. Before Zenya took interest in him. Before those fleshy creatures came from his body. Before he met...

“Tetsuo,” Youji murmured under his breath. Was all of this worth Tetsuo? Youji was starting to doubt himself.

Youji shut his eyes once more, begging for sleep to overtake him. His dreams led him to an earlier time in his high school career. It was a simpler, happier time back when he was involved with only a single student, his closest friend. Personally, Youji wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

“Mmm...” Youji could only strain out the first letter of his name before blissful unconsciousness claimed his physical body.

**XXX**

“Sakiyama Youji has been declared missing. If anyone knows of his whereabouts, please report it to the local police station immediately.”

The entire classroom murmured at the sudden announcement. Sakiyama Youji, that absent-minded, aloof student? He didn’t look like the type to be involved in dangerous activity. He was barely attached to reality as it was. What could have happened to him?

“Sakiyama...” Tetsuo whispered under his breath. He feared that it was his own actions that contributed to his disappearance. Unconsciously, his eyes darted towards the oddball blonde who sat to his far right. At the pit of his gut, with his most raw sense of instinct, Tetsuo knew Zenya had something to do with this.

“Hey Mita, you hang around Youji a lot. When was the last time you saw him?” A classmate asked the usually-chipper Makoto. With no reply received, the classmate persisted, “Mita? Hey, are you listening? You were, like, Youji’s best friend.”

Makoto stood up abruptly; the scraping from his chair alerted everyone of his sudden movement. Kamiya-sensei immediately looked to him, “Mita, what’s wrong?” Makoto left the room without a word, “Shironuma, please go after Mita,”

Without response, Tetsuo stood and left the room.

Conveniently, the male bathroom was vacant. Makoto rushed inside, hoping for complete privacy from his classmates. Absently, he ran cold water in the sink and splashed it against his skin. Immediately his flesh tightened and grew numb at the frosty touch.

“Youji, Youji, Youji,” He repeated to himself like a mantra. He wished it wasn’t true when Youji had disappeared from class a week ago. He wished that Youji was merely sick or perhaps skipping class. His mind was ravaged with thoughts on his close friend. He wanted to see him. He needed to see him. He wanted him. He needed Youji. Makoto thought he could keep it under control but this was his breaking point.

“I want to see him again...” The icy water slid down his face; he hoped the shame of having such sordid thoughts about his closest friend would trickle off his face as the water had. The collar of his shirt and the bangs of his hair were soaked in icy cold water, clinging to his face as a crude reminder of his shame.

“Mita,”

A scowl flashed upon Makoto’s face. It was a reflex. Since the day he saw Youji and Tetsuo together, his face couldn’t help but clench into a dark scowl at the mention of Shironuma Tetsuo. Makoto was the one who ate with Youji for months. He was the one who walked him home. He was the one who brought Youji food when he was too sickly to leave the infirmary. What does Shironuma know about Youji? Did Shironuma replace Makoto’s role in Youji’s life? How did Shironuma replace him? How? Why?

Makoto turned to Tetsuo, his body clenched tightly in anger. His face, glistening with water, glared with the darkest hate he could muster, “Shironuma...” He hissed. He didn’t know his voice could sound so venomous. No one would have guessed such a hiss came from the cheerful, happy-go-lucky Mita Makoto.

“Kamiya sent me to get you,”

“Kamiya...” The hiss came under his breath. It tasted far less bitter than the mention of Tetsuo’s surname, “I don’t need a babysitter,” He snatched a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and quickly dried his face. His shirt and hair would have to dry on their own. While his face was buried in paper towels, Makoto spied Tetsuo’s shoe on the ground and growled in his throat, “You’re still here? What do you want?”

“The same thing you want,”

That response angered him to no ends. He imagined the water on his shirt and hair bubbling at the hot anger seeping from his form. He tossed the paper towels aside, looking up at his brawny classmate, “You had something to do with this. I swear you did! You’re always around Youji. Youji doesn’t even like you!” He couldn’t believe the words flying from his mouth, “If you never came into his life, Youji would still be here with me!”

A snort came from Tetsuo. His expression was as empty and solemn as ever, “You don’t suspect me. You just want Youji to yourself,” A fist came flying at Tetsuo. Without even a flicker of emotion on his face, Tetsuo caught Makoto’s arm and flung him into the bathroom wall.

The impact of his back against the firm bathroom wall knocked the breath out of Makoto. He grunted at the spike of pain rippling through his spine at the impact but did nothing else to vocalize his pain. He wouldn’t let himself look weak to this bastard.

“What do you know?” Makoto hissed back breathlessly.

It was a hopeless battle. Both were aware that quarrelling in a bathroom would not bring Youji back to them. Tetsuo left first and made his way back to the classroom. Makoto left the bathroom but had no intention of returning to the classroom. He made his way to the empty courtyard, hoping the silence could help him drown his overflowing thoughts of Youji.

“Shironuma?” Kamiya muttered as Tetsuo entered the room, “Where’s Mita?”

Tetsuo made his way to his seat, head turned to Kamiya, “He needs time a...” His words cut off abruptly as he stumbled over an extended foot. He caught his balance against a nearby desk and shot a glare at the perpetrator. Zenya waved back at him with a friendly smile as he retracted his foot back under his desk.

**XXX**

The day ended quickly, the student body was restless at Makoto’s odd behaviour and his sudden disappearance from class. Rumours began to spread and the naive students began to suspect Makoto to be involved in Youji’s disappearance. Tetsuo shrugged the worthless rumours off. He knew better. He knew who to truly suspect.

Humming a cheerful song, Zenya made his way to the limo which waited for him at the front of the school. He was accustomed to seeing Kitani waiting for him by the doors with an aloof expression, scaring off all who got close. However, he was surprised at the sight of Kamiya standing by Kitani. Tetsuo made note of this and observed from afar. What could Kamiya have wanted with Zenya?

The distance made it difficult for Tetsuo to hear what they were saying. He could only see Zenya’s soured expression as Kamiya spoke. A heated conversation broke out between Kitani and Kamiya. One could easily tell that Kamiya was not intimidated by the threatening older man. The conversation ended abruptly, a spiteful grimace upon Kamiya’s face as he glared daggers at Zenya. The three entered the limo and disappeared.

Zenya had something to do with this; Tetsuo was sure of that. How Kamiya fit into all this, he still hadn’t quite figured out. Regardless, Tetsuo knew his only lead and course of action was to interrogate Zenya. He retired home, preparing himself for what was to happen tomorrow.

\---

“I want to meet you again...” Makoto’s soft whispers met only the surface of Youji’s apartment door. Though he knew it was impossible, Makoto found himself knocking at the door in sporadic intervals. Perhaps, he thought, everything was a mistake. Perhaps Youji was just sick or depressed. Maybe, just maybe, Youji came home this day.

He twisted the doorknob slowly. To his surprise, the tumblers slid open. The door had been left unlocked, “Youji!” He called out, heart filled with false hope. It must have been his sister or the landlord. He knew it; he just denied it to fill himself with hope.

A soft, sweet aroma wafted through the air. Immediately, Makoto was drawn to it. He found the scent came most strongly from cloth materials like the couch, the curtains, _the bed...Oh the bed_. Makoto’s thoughts were drunk on this irresistible scent. He pressed his face against the pillows, drowning himself in that pleasurable scent.

In the rational part of his mind buried deep beneath his drunken consciousness, he wondered what about this smell drove him so thoroughly insane. He wanted to say love. He wanted to say romantic desire. But even so, that rational part of his mind kept egging him, kept nagging him. This obsession with Youji’s otherworldly fragrance was beyond healthy love.

But soon enough, even that rational part of his mind succumbed to the ravenous perfume of Sakiyama Youji. Makoto curled up in the bed, hoping his unconsciousness could bring him what he desired most.

\---

“I hate that man! I hate him! HATE! HATE HIM!” Zenya growled as he made his way to the shed.

A torturously long visit from Kamiya had Zenya fired up by his presence. He told Kitani he had come for an ‘academic intervention’, “Bullshit,” Zenya hissed under his breath. He knew what Kamiya came for. He knew what he wanted to see. He knew what Kamiya wanted to do to him. Like always, Kamiya wanted to look down on Zenya. He wanted to mock him for being imperfect, mock him for being worthless, and take away everything he had.

Up and down, back and forth, Kamiya searched the house while sending Kitani to meaningless tasks in the kitchen. Not even a scrap of Youji was found for Youji was still trapped in the shed. Even if Kamiya had somehow distracted Kitani to the point where he could sneak into the shed, Zenya would have taken the opportunity to push that bespectacled bastard down the wooden stairs. Sure, he’ll see Youji but it’s not like he’ll live to tell the tale. He’d bury his body beside his father’s, the one who also scorned him through his life.

His thoughts of brutally murdering Kamiya brought him some solace but not enough to quell his burning rage. He came down the stairs of the shed ranting with a demonic scowl upon his face, “I wish he was DEAD!” He kicked at the ground, sending a plate Kitani had left for Youji flying into the wall.

The shatter of the plate awoke Youji and threw him in a panic. He struggled against his binds, whimpering in fear, as he watched his cruel master approach. His body shuddered endlessly as Zenya’s cold fingers came upon his cheek and his rage-twisted visage melted away.

“Youji, did I scare you?” He muttered in a soothing, child-like voice, “I’m sorry. Some man tried to take you away from me and I just couldn’t allow that.” His mouth came firmly upon Youji’s quivering lips. A quiet whimper wormed its way into Zenya’s mouth, “I’m sorry I frightened you,” His words were laced with sweet poison, “But I’ll make it better. I’ll make it so much better...that Youji might lose consciousness.”

Noises of mercy and grief bubbled into Youji’s mouth, mind and body too exhausted to produce sentences to beg for mercy. The noises were unheard from his cruel dominator.

**XXX**

Makoto woke to a booming thunderclap that disrupted his bliss soaked in Youji’s imaginary presence. The soft smell of rain permeated the dominating scent that circulated the room. He had left the door wide open, allowing stormy winds to enter and pollute the sweet perfume. Immediately, Makoto leapt to his feet and shut the front door. This lingering scent was all that was left of his beloved friend. He couldn’t let Mother Nature take this away from him.

“What am I doing...?” That single logical part of his mind reawakened. He couldn’t help but feel that this was wrong and sick. He couldn’t help but feel if given the chance...he would have kidnapped Youji too. He shut those sickening thoughts from his head and made his way to the bathroom.

Parallel to what he had done at school; Makoto splashed icy water upon his face till the stinging cold muffled the sting of his thoughts. He took a deep breath as he combed his fingers thought his hair, slicking it back with water. He opened his eyes and looked upon himself.

Never in his life had he saw himself in such disorder.

He had gone to sleep in his school uniform, even forgetting to take off his shoes. Buttons were popped open, fabric was wrinkled, and dust from Youji’s bed had cumulated on his clothing. Dark circles reminiscent of the plague’s physical symptoms were upon his eyes. Though Makoto let himself sleep, his mind refused to settle and cumulate mental strength for his body. He hadn’t notice this before but he was getting thinner. Happy-go-lucky Makoto who labelled eating at his number one hobby had lost his appetite since the day Youji’s stopped appearing at school.

It was undeniable. His life revolved around Youji’s existence and collapsed without him.

The digital, monotonous beeping of an alarm clock suddenly drew Makoto’s attention into the bedroom. He headed to the bedroom, drying his face upon his shirt as he went. Youji’s alarm clock went off, signalling the start of a new school day.

At least Makoto was already in his uniform.

\---

The school day didn’t start well. Despite the heavy rainfall, Makoto refused to take one of Youji’s umbrellas and ended up thoroughly soaked on his way. He found himself unable to concentrate on Kamiya’s lecture. Perhaps it was the fact that he was soaked right down to his underwear but even that nuisance was minor in effect when compared to the only thought that dominated his mind.

“Makoto?” A fellow classmate muttered as the class took a lunch break, “You should dry off. You’ll catch a cold.” The kind-hearted classmate reached into his bag and produced a towel, “You can borrow my towel. Just remember to return it before gym today.”

“...mm,” A quick, mumbled response was all Makoto managed to reply with. He stood from the giant puddle accumulating on his desk and made his way to the bathroom.

Shortly after he exited the room, Kamiya returned to teach the remainder of his chemistry lesson. He scanned the room quickly as everyone returned to their seats, “Where are Mita, Shironuma, and Okinaga?”

\---

There was no way Makoto could concentrate in the class. He was better off leaving. But Makoto found himself caught between a tug-of-war between his reason and instinct. His body begged him to return to Youji’s apartment and indulge in lucid fantasy of his friend while his mind begged him to awaken from his animalistic obsession and return to his normal life.

He wound up standing by the front door amongst the lockers watching students return from their lunch break. The class bell rang, the students returned to their classes yet Makoto still remained. Oddly enough, he wasn’t the only one. In the corner of his eye, he swore he saw Tetsuo against the lockers watching the front door.

A sickeningly joyful tune bounced through the air as Zenya made his way inside the school. Makoto couldn’t help but watch the misfit-in-sandals skip in merrily as if classes meant nothing to him. He seemed happier than usual, as if he were the one draining his happiness.

“Hello! Mako-chan!” Zenya greeted with a quick wave, completely disregarding Makoto’s current dreary state. The instant his shoulder passed Makoto’s arm, time froze.

That pleasant scent that Youji carried wafted into Makoto’s proximity. There was no denying it. Makoto had memorized this fragrance if not anything else. He had discriminated it down to its purest form and committed it to the deepest crevices of his mind. This was Youji...now why was Okinaga carrying it?

Teeth barred and muscles clenched, Makoto grabbed Zenya’s shoulder and threw him against a locker, “Where’s Youji!” He growled. Veins were visible against his skin. His heart was pounding with inhuman rage. He was running on pure instinct right now and he didn’t give a damn if anyone saw.

His fist came down hard but only managed to strike a locker. The blunt pain of the metal smashing against his fist rippled through his arm but even that only managed a small ‘tch’ from the instinct-fuelled Makoto. He tightly gripped Zenya’s forearms and slammed his back brutally against the lockers. Hoping that would be enough to subdue him, Makoto released his hold only to regret his mistake.

“Where’s your proof?” Zenya hissed, punching Makoto in the gut before slamming his back into the lockers repeatedly. Scowling, Zenya grabbed Makoto’s hair in a vice grip and slammed his left temple against the ridge of a locker door.

The impact of the locker sent a spiking pain exploding from Makoto’s left temple. He fell against the lockers, pure willpower forcing him to keep standing. He kept his eyes down, trying to refocus them. The sound of Zenya’s footsteps angered him. How dare he flee before he figured out why Youji’s scent lingered upon him?

“Give him back to me...” Makoto growled as he tackled Zenya down. The two tussled on the floor, beating at each other whenever the opening arose, “You took him away. I know you did!” Déjà vu was resonating from those words, “His smell...I can smell him...” A fist cleanly came upon Makoto’s cheek while his guard was down, sending him falling to the floor.

Makoto growled as he shot a glare at Zenya. At the sight of him, his body froze. A demonic grimace was plastered into Zenya’s usually-eccentric face. Had his words angered him so much? He had no time to ponder as Zenya grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pinned him against the lockers.

Before Zenya could begin his brutal assault, a firm hand came down on Zenya’s shoulder and pulled him away. Immediately, Makoto took this opportunity to lunge forward. The same hand came down and held Makoto back.

“Shironuma!” Makoto shouted, “Get out of my way!”

The solemn-faced Tetsuo made no reply. He merely remained a divider separating the two raging animals apart. It took a short moment before the two were able to quell their savage anger. Zenya drew away first, glaring at Tetsuo as he left. Makoto, without that instinctive willpower to keep him standing, collapsed to the ground in a heap. Whether it was his declining health or Zenya’s beating, Makoto had no more strength to keep himself awake.

An arm hooked itself under Makoto’s shoulders and knees. He felt himself being lifted off the floor but couldn’t concentrate long enough to figure out where he was going.

\---

“...a”

“...Mita”

“Mi...Ta”

A man was speaking to him. It was a familiar voice that he’d grown accustomed to. Without opening his eyes, Makoto replied softly, “Kamiya?”

“-Sensei,” The man corrected, “Did you and Okinaga get into a fight? You’re both covered in bruises.”

“...started it”

“What?”

“He...started it.” He kept his eyes closed, fearing the world would still be bouncing around when he opened them. He sat up slowly, “He did it. He took him away...Youji...” There was no response from Kamiya. Makoto got off the bed slowly, eyes partially closed and lowered so the light couldn’t hit them, “Can we talk about this tomorrow?” There was still no reply. Makoto took this as a signal to leave.

Had Makoto opened his eyes, he would have seen the disgruntled visage of his teacher.

This was the first rest in a long time that Makoto hadn’t been plagued with dreams about Youji. It was the first rest he was able to lose himself into pleasant slumber. Whether it was his body finally reaching its psychological exhaustion breaking point or the fact that he had a lead to Youji’s disappearance, Makoto felt oddly refreshed by the nap he had taken.

The school day had already ended before he had awoken. He spied the clock in one of the classrooms, noting that it was almost 5. _Perfect..._ Makoto’s eyes narrowed in spiteful glee. Zenya always left at 5 which meant he had a window of opportunity to ‘interrogate’ him again. Fortunately, the rain had stopped which meant that oddball was standing outside away from any intervening teachers. Sure, a couple students might try to break them apart but as long as he wasn’t expelled and prevented from getting close to Zenya, he didn’t see a problem.

The crowd of students out in the courtyard was slowly thinning. Hurriedly, Makoto slipped through the crowd and approached Zenya...only to be stopped by a group of giggling girls.

“Mita, are you close friends with Shironuma?”

“He was carrying you to the nurses’ office! How romantic!”

“Holding you like a princess too! It was so sweet!”

Even in such a dire mood, Makoto felt his masculine pride crumble just a bit. He cringed comically and pushed passed the girls politely. Unfortunately, Zenya had caught the girls’ ramble and was quite aware of Makoto’s presence. He climbed over the gate and turned past the corner.

“Oy!” Makoto barked, immediately calling the attention of every student in the proximity. He quickly leapt over the gate and grabbed the back of Zenya’s collar, “Get back here.” A fist connected with his stomach but it was clearly stronger and bigger than Zenya’s. Makoto doubled back; he felt his stomach stir uncomfortably at the foreign impact. His eyes came up and met the attacker.

“Oh Kitani!” Zenya chortled, “Thank you so much! He was starting to scare me!”

The older, dark-skinned man said nothing. He merely took his seat within the car, shooting short glances at Makoto to make sure he wouldn’t attack Zenya again. Makoto could do nothing under the watch of his bodyguard. All he could do was helplessly watch as his only lead drove off safely. That sweet, lingering scent dissipating into nothing.

He didn’t care if his classmates heard him or not. He clutched his head and screamed. The tension straining his mind was too much and Zenya’s escape snapped everything.

\---

Youji’s apartment was his safe haven. It was the place he could be closest to Youji and sate his abnormal desire for him. However, an obstruction propped itself against the door, purposely preventing him entrance.

“This is Sakiyama’s residence. What are you doing here, Mita?” Tetsuo asked in his naturally threatening voice.

A growl escaped from Makoto’s lips. The brawl with Zenya still had his fighting instincts on stand-by. He attempted to push Tetsuo away but the broader-shaped student remained sturdily against the door.

“Shironuma, what do you want?”

“Like I said before, the same thing you want,” Tetsuo lifted himself off the door but immediately barred its entrance from Makoto by extended his arm out, “Why did you attack Okinaga? Did you think he had something to do with Sakiyama’s disappearance?”

“Just get out of my way!”

“So you’re not completely clueless,” Tetsuo finished as his arm dropped. Makoto’s eyes fell upon Tetsuo, trying to decipher what he meant, “Okinaga has something to do with this. I suspected him since the beginning.”

**XXX**

Much to Makoto’s dismay, Tetsuo had suggested to meet at a local ramen store to converse as opposed to the comfort of Youji’s apartment. The two sat in awkward silence, staring at the cup of green tea that was provided for them. Only when the waiter dropped off their ramen did they begin to speak.

“Coconut curry octopus ramen...?” Tetsuo inquired as he watched Makoto eat the exotic dish. The waiter couldn’t help but chuckle at Tetsuo’s perplexed expression at such a simple object.

“It’s good to eat new foods.” Makoto replied flatly. Though, Makoto had little appetite for food, “So, why Okinaga?”

The two glanced around the store quickly, reaffirming that Zenya or anyone related to him as not around.

“Instinct,” Tetsuo replied calmly, slipping a piece of pork into his mouth as he did, “It just feels like he did it. And yesterday, Kamiya was hounding him after school.”

“Kamiya has something to do with this...?” Makoto conjectured.

“Why did you pick a fight with Okinaga? I watched you fight him.” As usual, Tetsuo was blunt and straight to the point. Makoto hesitated to respond, using a mouthful of ramen to delay his response, “Well? Say something,” His chopsticks came forward, intercepting a mouthful of octopus tentacles from entering Makoto’s mouth.

A grunt came from Makoto as he dropped his chopsticks, “It’s going to sound stupid,” Tetsuo said nothing to discourage him; “I could smell Youji off him. Like a really sweet gentle smell that only Youji has. It’s not like perfume or shampoo or anything like that.”

An awkward silence permeated the conversation. Without warning, Makoto broke into sad laughter, “Stupid right?” He laughed harder at himself, eyes not meeting Tetsuo’s, “I think I’m insane. I can’t stop thinking about Youji. I’m obsessed with his smell. What’s wrong with me?” He was on the verge of tears, his pride the only barrier against his breakdown.

Tetsuo interrupted his breakdown, immediately calling his attention, “Like lychee or a really gentle flowery smell,” He brought Makoto’s chopsticks back to his hands, “It’s not just me; you smell it too.”

The two sat in silence, slowly eating their ramen while waiting for the other to speak up. Who knew it was possible for them to relate to one another? The polar opposites had more in common than they thought. Yet the common denominator was still Sakiyama Youji.

“Truce,” Makoto started, “Let’s work together till we find Youji again,” He held up his cup of green tea.

Tetsuo stared at the cup with an unbelieving expression before relenting and lifting his own, “Truce,” The two tapped their cups together and took a sip of tea. A bond built between the two from the love of one man.

\---

After the dinner, both agreed to investigate Okinaga’s residence for any clue on Youji’s whereabouts. Outside of ambition, the two obviously were unprepared, feeding only on ambition. The two were against the only portion of the fence that was not blocked off by a wall of shrubbery. It was far too dark to see anything except the lights coming from the house.

“Mita, I don’t see anything.” Tetsuo commented, “We need to come during the daytime,”

“No way,” Makoto snapped back, accidentally elbowing Tetsuo’s chest as he got up from the ground, “Youji could be getting tortured for all we know. We can’t wait any longer.” Using Tetsuo’s knee as a step ladder over the fence, Makoto forced half his body upon the top of the fence. A strong grip on his ankle kept him from flipping over the fence, “What, let go of me Shironuma!”

“Don’t be an idiot. We don’t even know if Sakiyama’s in there,”

The sound of a door sliding open immediately alerted the two of them. They remained huddled behind branches as Kitani stepped out from the house and shone a light in their direction, “Who’s there?” He boomed as he scanned the fence with his light. Through the branches, Makoto and Tetsuo spied the gun the older man had on his belt. After a fruitless search, Kitani returned into the house. The two males found their hearts racing at the close brush with Zenya’s unofficial bodyguard.

“Now imagine if you had climbed over the fence and he caught you.”

“Oh shut up,”

\---

“Kitani? What was that?” Zenya asked as he folded up a soiled kimono that he had took from Youji.

“I thought I saw two people out there.” Kitani replied honestly as he returned to cleaning the dishes.

Two people...Zenya has a growing suspicion of who it was already, “The perfect male and his idiot friend.” He grunted under his breath.

“Young master, I think...” He paused, knowing he’d enrage Zenya with his words. He put the dishes aside and stepped towards him, “Young master, please reconsider what you are doing. Kamiya almost found him and it’s only a matter of time till more people come.”

A growl, “But he didn’t find him. And he never will. No one will. I won’t let anyone take Youji away from me.” He took a step forward, Kitani retreated back, “Are you saying you’ll take him away from me if I don’t stop? Are you trying to take away my happiness?”

“No...I’d never!” Kitani replied desperately. He hated seeing Zenya distraught. He only wished he could bring Zenya happiness without harming others, “Just, then, at least bring him back into the house. He can’t last any longer in there. He doesn’t even speak anymore.”

Zenya shook his head, “No way. What if _that man_ comes back? I can’t let him take my Youji away from me,” He threw the kimono into the laundry basket. Kitani knew that no amount of soap and water could wash away the defilement enraptured in that cloth, “Youji will be fine. He’ll always be fine. He’ll be with my forever after all.”

\---

The two pulled back behind the bushes, accepting that there was nothing they could do at the time.  The misfit team made their way to the train station, contemplating what to do.

“As long as his bodyguard is there, we can’t do anything.” Tetsuo remarked, “It’s too dangerous to break in while he’s there.” A grumble came from Makoto. Clearly, he was still adamant on leaping in naively and rescuing Youji, “Mita, you’ll get shot trying to break in. And what if Sakiyama wasn’t there? Getting arrested isn’t going to help you find Sakiyama.”

“I’m sure he’s there.” Makoto snapped back, “It was definitely his scent I picked up.”

“Try telling that to the cops.”

“Oh shut up,” Hadn’t he already said this to Shironuma already? It was no surprise to him that Tetsuo would get on his nerves so often, “What can we do? Wait for Zenya’s bodyguard to leave the house? We don’t know-!” He cut himself off, suddenly remembering the punch to the gut he had received after school ended. When Kitani left to pick up Zenya... “That’s perfect!” He exclaimed happily.

With a raised brow, Tetsuo looked at him, “What’s perfect?”

“After school, Kitani picks Zenya up every day!” Makoto said with a large toothy smile, “We’ll leave class early and head down there. We wait for Kitani to leave and then we break in!” Makoto eagerly exclaimed. His voice was echoing in the empty neighbourhood rousing some nocturnal animals from their nests. Thank god they had left the proximity of the Okinaga residence.

A hand swiftly came down over Makoto’s head, scolding him, “Stop being so loud. People are trying to sleep right now.” Before Makoto could snap back a retort, Tetsuo had already walked ahead, “That’s a good plan. It gives us twenty minutes to search the place and then escape.”

“Tomorrow, we’ll leave before our last class.”

\---

“Ne, Yoi-chan,” Zenya murmured softly as he caressed Youji’s quivering lips, “One of your friends knows I have you,” This immediately called attention to Youji’s vacant eyes, “What was his name again...ah! That’s right, Mako-chan!” A soft whimpering came from Youji’s lips at the sound of his name, “But I won’t let him find you. I’ll never let him take you away.” Zenya’s sweet voice slowly melted into a venomous tone, “You don’t want to go back to him, right? Who would you rather have forever?”

Youji stared fearfully into Zenya’s eyes. Was he looking for a response? A hand came gently upon his chest, caressing his rapidly palpitating heart. Youji screwed his eyes shut. Would Makoto really come and save him? Would Zenya keep him forever? Does he want to be Zenya’s pet forever? If he said he preferred Zenya, would his mind submit to his words? He couldn’t risk it. He didn’t want this.

“Makoto...” Youji murmured softly, his voice raspy and weak.

Zenya said nothing more. His hand came down hard upon Youji’s cheek, “Liar...” Zenya growled, gripping the front of Youji’s hair tightly, forcing him to look in his eyes, “Liar,” Zenya repeated, a bit more firmly. He slammed his head into the pillar behind him, sending a wave of pain vibrating from the back of Youji’s head. Youji squealed loudly again, his bound hands coming up and pushing Zenya back.

“...Makoto...” Youji murmured again, through the throbbing pain in the back of his head. He had to burn this into his mind. He didn’t want Zenya. He felt pity; he felt sorrow for his condition; he felt sympathy; but never love. How could he love a man who treated him like a sex slave?

The back of his head collided against the pillar behind him again, this time, with more force and less control. Youji felt the world spinning around him as he collapsed; unable to keep his eyes open without throwing up. He heard rustling from the boxes Zenya had kept around the room, “Makoto...” Youji murmured again. This time, Zenya growled as footsteps approached Youji once more.

 A dank, putrid tasting cloth came around his mouth, gagging him tightly, preventing him from mention the name of his best friend again. Immediately, Youji retched at the rotting flavour of the cloth. His bound wrists came up to remove it only to have them caught by Zenya and torn free. Youji struggled weakly, finding new strength in the sound of his best friend’s name. Still, his feeble health prevented him from successfully escaping. His wrists were bound tightly behind the pillar, stretching his arms till the muscles ached.

Zenya pried his legs open violently, completely exposing him. Youji’s cries were muffled under the cloth, unable to plead for forgiveness from his master.

“Open your eyes,” Zenya’s quiet voice whispered, “Open your eyes, Youji. Yoi-chan,” He murmured softly against his ears. His sweet loving tone masking the spite and rage in his mind, “Yoi-chan...”

Slowly, Youji opened his eyes. They immediately came upon the handful of long candles Zenya held in his fist, “Yoi-chan, do you know what these are for?” Panic flooded Youji’s sense. All he could do was struggle helplessly as Zenya spread his legs further.

\---

“Youji!” Makoto screamed as he awoke from his bed. His heart was pounding so rapidly; he thought he’d have a heart attack. He looked around quickly, remembering that this was his room. He was no longer sleeping at Youji’s apartment.

The calmness he had built up with Tetsuo fizzled away. Youji was getting tortured. He swore he could feel it. He checked the clock, far too late for him to be leaving the house without his parents worrying. He curled up on his bed, hugging his knees tightly against his chest. The last class of the day was too late. He had to find Youji now. Right now. And if not then, as soon as he possibly could.

**XXX**

It was an agonizingly long night of rest. Both Tetsuo and Makoto had little rest, too anxious to keep their eyes shut. The two also had a long time explaining to their parents where they had been last night especially Makoto who had been resting at Youji’s place. Fortunately, Tetsuo faked a phone call for him to protect his dignity. Unfortunately, Tetsuo had said that Makoto had stayed over at his house for “private reasons” unintentionally implying that Makoto was...

“Sleeping with Shironuma?” A few girls chirped happily around Makoto, “Isn’t that kind of cute?”

“Huh...but they don’t match at all!”

The day had just begun and already Makoto felt like fleeing the building. His whole body felt jittery as if it took all his power just to restrain himself from leaping out the window and run to the Okinaga residence. Of course, it could also be the rumours of him and his rival-for-Youji’s-affection circulating the campus.

Then his mind emptied as Zenya bounced him happily. Makoto couldn’t help but gag at the sickeningly sweet smile plastered on his face. He was too happy and if the source of his happiness was the sick torture of his Youji, there would be hell to pay.

“Hey,” A low, rumbling voice broke Makoto’s intense concentration of hatred upon Zenya. His hand came down upon Makoto’s shoulder, “Don’t forget about last night.” Immediately the class went silent, listening in on Tetsuo’s innuendo-laden speech, “We’ll leave together. You won’t be able to do it without me.”

“Don’t be so full of yourself. I can do it with anyone. You were just convenient.” Spiteful Makoto retorted. Truthfully, his words were empty. He was glad Tetsuo was working beside him to save Youji.

“You need me.” The private speech between the two was broken by a sudden explosion of squealing fan girls.

Snickers erupted in the room along with the giggling and squealing.

“Weren’t they both really close to Sakiyama?”

“I guess when Sakiyama disappeared, the two got really close.”

“Almost too close,” Giggling followed shortly after.

In a matter of days, Makoto became the talk of the school. He stood up abruptly from his seat, wanting to shout something to salvage his dignity. Possibly, “I’m not in love with Shironuma!” or better yet, “Get real! I hate this guy!” The words never made it out of his mouth. A pair of warm, firm lips against his mouth blocked their passage.

The class went silent. Even Zenya, who had been so intensely glaring at Tetsuo and Makoto, stared wide-eyed and puzzled. All Makoto could see was Tetsuo’s soft honey-blonde hair curling over his matching eyes. He felt his large, warm hands firmly holding his head in place. Within this close proximity, Makoto could catch a faint scent coming from him. It reminded him so much of Youji but subtler and musky.

With his eyes closed, Tetsuo lifted his lips till he had just enough space to whisper, “Zenya’s glaring at us. I think he suspects us. Just play along with this...” He opened his eyes slowly, almost laughing at the dumbfounded look on Makoto’s face. His glance flickered over to Zenya, noticing his suspicious glare had disappeared.

“Alright class! Pop quiz today!” Kamiya declared in a sing-song voice as he entered. He stopped short when he saw Tetsuo cuddling up against a highly reluctant Makoto.

Tetsuo looked up at Kamiya, “We can explain,” What story would he have to cook up to savagely destroy their reputation but help them disguise their intent of breaking into Okinaga’s residence and hopefully saving Youji?

“I’m not here to judge.” Kamiya replied calmly.

“No, really”

“I’m not here to judge,” With that, Kamiya walked to the front of the class and placed his suitcase on the desk, “Anyway, pop quiz! Everyone to their seats!”

Even after everyone returned to their seats, quiet giggles and chatter could still be heard amongst the students. Tetsuo took another quick glance at Zenya, happy to see that his suspicious glare had reverted back into his usual absent-minded expression. His ‘little show’ successfully fended off suspicion from Zenya but he feared that it had inadvertently fried Makoto’s mind.

Whatever was on Makoto’s head during the test definitely had nothing to do with chemistry. His thoughts overflowed with desire for Youji as usual yet that single pseudo-passionate kiss with Tetsuo refused to leave him alone. The tests were collected with Makoto’s almost half blank, his mind too cluttered to work. He looked out the window absently and slowly his thoughts began to rearrange themselves into a fitting conclusion.

“Ah, my reputation is ruined.”

\---

Lunch break had finally arrived. Makoto and Tetsuo had decided to plan during lunchtime since they could easily find somewhere private to talk. The legion of fan girls refused to leave them alone throughout lunchtime so the two decided to head to the roof, locking the door and preventing others from following. Makoto somehow knew that this would worsen his reputation.

Locking the door so he could be alone on a roof...where no one can see him...with Shironuma...who had just kissed him...

“Whatever, Youji is more important than reputation!” Makoto exclaimed to himself.

“At least you’ve calmed down now. You were like a zombie before.” Tetsuo commented, “We agreed that we’d leave our last class and head to Okinaga’s place?” A disgruntled expression appeared on Makoto’s face, “What’s wrong?”

“Why don’t we leave now?” Makoto insisted, “What if Youji is getting tortured? “

“You’re still on that? We don’t even know if Okinaga really took Sakiyama in the first place.” Tetsuo retorted. He was starting to get a major case of déjà vu, “Zenya’s bodyguard could still be at the house. Are you willing to risk that for possibly nothing?”

Tetsuo’s collar was suddenly gripped tightly. With all of Makoto’s power against Tetsuo’s stronger build, he pushed the taller, broader man into the fence surrounding the roof, “I’m sure he’s there! I’m 100% sure he’s there!”

“I’m not letting you risk it!” Tetsuo barked back, frightening Makoto with his sudden booming voice. He grabbed Makoto’s arm and pulled him forward, eventually shoving Makoto’s back into the fence and switching their positions, “If Sakiyama really is in there and you screw it up, we might lose our only chance at ever finding him. We go with the plan we came up with last night.” A fist flew at Tetsuo’s chin. His head jerked back violently but he refused to voice his pain. He gripped Makoto’s wrist tightly, pinning his wrist into his chest and forcing him against the fence, “Calm down!”

“You calm down!” Makoto retorted dumbly as he thrashed hard, trying to get away from Tetsuo, “What if he’s in pain right now? What if he gets killed before we get to him?”

“That’s better than us getting killed before we get the chance to even look for him!”

The soft, girly murmurs of their classmates alerted the two and broke their small fight. They both glanced down dumbly at the students by the front entrance staring at the two wrestling with each other on the fence. Obviously from their angle, it didn’t look like they were fighting...

“Ah! Enough!” Makoto shouted, squirming away from Tetsuo’s grip, “You’re making everyone think I’m in love with you! The only one I want is Youji!” Makoto declared his love abruptly. The two were silent immediately after. Seeing nothing left to say, Makoto left the rooftop.

Tetsuo sighed heavily, hoping Makoto wouldn’t act on his instinct and try to do this on his own.

Unfortunately, Makoto had.

**XXX**

There he was, at Okinaga’s residence. He briefly looked at his phone, noting that lunch break was almost over. He wasn’t too concerned about class, Youji was more important than that; rather he was concerned about Tetsuo figuring out that he had gone missing. He’d be so angry...

Wait, why was he concerned about how Tetsuo felt?

He silenced the voice in his head and headed towards the bushes they were at the night before. The cover was much smaller than he remembered but now that Tetsuo wasn’t here, there’d be less body mass to hide. He scrambled up the fence quickly, making sure Kitani was nowhere in sight. Something caught his eye and his heart sank into bitter darkness.

A grave hidden in the rose bushes

 It was perfectly rectangular and fresh.

If Makoto hadn’t taken a higher perch on the fence, he would have never seen it camouflaged amongst fertilizer. He leapt off the fence and ran to the grave, tears threatening to fall from his eyes, “Youji...” He murmured, falling short of the grave.

Wait...it couldn’t be him.

Makoto reasoned with himself, bringing reassurance that he wasn’t too late. He smelled Youji off Zenya. If he were already dead, he would have never caught that smell. Unless Zenya buried him the day the two had a fight. Makoto fought off that lingering thought. He had to believe Youji was alright. He couldn’t give up hope just by looking at an unknown grave.

His heart skipped a beat as he heard a sing-song voice from behind him. He dove into the roses, ignoring the thorns that ripped into his skin, “Zenya?” Makoto muttered quickly. Does he usually go home for lunch? He never paid attention to this fact. At this new vantage point, Makoto spied the shed hidden behind the house.

Zenya was leaving the shed with two sets of plates. His expression was eerily happy as he walked into the house. Makoto fought the urge to charge forward and break into that shed. It was too conspicuous to ignore. He held onto his control, glancing quickly at his watch. Ten minutes before lunch break was over which meant Zenya would need to be driven back.

...jackpot

Unlike Tetsuo’s original plan, this was only a drop-off which meant Kitani would not be waiting by the doors as he usually would. He didn’t have as much time so he had to work fast. As soon as the lights in the kitchen turned off, Makoto snuck towards the shed. Pressed against the wall, he listened closely through the window. He heard a low, mature voice speaking but could not make out the words. He took this as a cue that Zenya and his bodyguard were far enough from the backdoor.

He crept to the shed. To his surprise, the shed was unlocked. However, the fortunate surprise dissipated into frightful realization. If Youji was inside, what was stopping him from sneaking out? He twisted the doorknob and pulled the door open slowly. He took a step in, closing the door, and was greeted with a blanket of pitch black darkness. There were windows further down the stairs but they were small and shielded by thick curtains. Only slivers of light made it through dying the pitch darkness in a bluish haze.

Another source of light he noticed was a television set placed in the corner. He wasn’t close enough to tell what was playing but he could hear static-filtered moaning through the speakers. He swallowed, hoping this wasn’t what he thought it was.

However, it wasn’t the lack of light or strange sounds that grasped Makoto’s attention. The whole shed smelled of sweat and filth with a faint tinge of blood. However, the smell that overpowered everything else made Makoto shudder with lust. It was Youji’s smell. It was definitely his smell except stronger and pungent, tainted by Zenya.

He took a step down the staircase. They creaked loudly and threatened to break if Makoto was any heavier. A faint rustling in the corner immediately alerted him. He breathed slowly, afraid that if he inhaled too much of Youji’s irresistible scent, he’d faint from ecstasy, “Youji...” He murmured softly into the darkness. He reached the bottom of the stairs, following short whimpers that came from a pillar dully illuminated by the TV set.

Using his hands to guide him, Makoto felt down the pillar to his hands came upon the warm sleeve of a kimono, “Youji,” He said again, more firmly. The whimpering briefly stopped. Makoto felt the muscles beneath the kimono stretch in a futile attempt to escape. Makoto slid his hand up the bound arm till he reached the soft ends of Youji’s hair at the base of his neck. He guided his hands up his face, passing the cloth that was bound tightly around his mouth, stroking his soft cheeks, noticing a warm wetness upon them.

“Oh god...Youji...” Makoto murmured. His hands slid back down to the gag and tore it off. A loud whine came from Youji as the gag fell to the ground, “I’m here. Don’t worry.” He reached around Youji, inadvertently hugging him in the process as he untied his arms. He guided his arms back to his side before trying to lift him. He was immediately met with resistance and Youji crumpled to the ground gasping in pain, “What’s wrong?” Youji could only whine in response.

Makoto need to survey the damage himself. He walked over to one of the curtains and pulled it open, allowing sunlight to bathe the dank, grimy shed. He looked back at Youji only to be horrified by what he saw.

Between his legs, two candles were lodged deep inside him. His thighs wet with blood and natural lubricant. Tears were dried on Youji’s face but were being washed away by new tears. He looked like he hadn’t bathed in days, which he probably hadn’t. Eerily, the kimono he wore was perfectly clean except for the sections glued to his thighs by bodily fluids.

“Youji...” Makoto murmured as he knelt in front of him, his hands on his knee, “I’m going to pull them out. Just relax as much as you can,” His hand touched the first candle. It was sticky but Makoto endured the strange sensation. Youji shut his eyes tightly, squealing as Makoto pulled out the candle slowly. His hand came upon the second, pulling that one out carefully as well, “There...” The candles were long, so horrendously long. He smiled sadly at Youji, pulling him into a hug disregarding Youji’s current hygienic state, “You’re safe now. He won’t do anything else to you.”

A soft whine came from Youji. Makoto could only imagine the abuse he had gone through to make him lose his voice. Weakly, Youji’s arms came around Makoto’s shoulders, gripping him with all his strength. Makoto took this as a signal to lift Youji into his arms and carry him out.

As he made his way to the stairs, Makoto took a quick glance at the flickering TV. He couldn’t bear to watch the vile acts upon the screen. He kicked the television set onto the floor, shattering the screen as it fell onto the floor. Youji whimpered frightfully at the sudden crash but was reassured by a loving hand caressing his face gently.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing.” Makoto stroked his face as he cooed the words gently to Youji as if speaking to a frightened child. He made his way up the stairs, keeping his arms hooked tightly underneath Youji’s knees and back.

Youji pressed his eyes closed when Makoto carried him out of the shed. The sensation of sunlight upon his eyes was too much. He’d almost forgotten that such bright light existed.  

“They should be gone now...” Makoto murmured as he ran to the fence, “You’re safe now. He’ll never hurt you again.” He hoisted Youji up with one arm, using his other hand to scale the fence. He felt Youji cling to him even tighter, a soft hum coming from his lips. Even in these circumstances, Makoto felt blush creep to his face at the feeling of Youji clinging so intimately to his body. He tightened his grip on Youji, letting his head lodge itself gently in the crook of his neck, “Youji...” He whispered quietly as he continued to scale the fence, “I love you,” He mouthed the words, unable to say them out loud.

The blunt pain came first, then an ear-shattering boom.

The force that threatened to blow his leg off threw the two against the fence, pressing Youji uncomfortably into the harsh metal. He shrieked in pain, clutching to Makoto before the two fell to the ground. Youji was cushioned from the fall by Makoto, immediately rolling to the side to lessen the pressure. Youji almost shrieked again but found words unable to choke through his throat. There was a gunshot wound on Makoto’s right thigh.

The pain was overwhelming. It was unlike anything Makoto had ever felt. His body shuddered in the massive pain exploding from his leg. He wanted to scream his heart out, letting his voice be the anaesthetic to his wound. But when he saw Youji’s panic-stricken face, his body shuddering in fear for his good friend, Makoto held it in. He couldn’t burden Youji with the pain of his wound.

“...Youji...” He muttered softly, gripping his hand, “It doesn’t hurt,” Makoto muttered through tears of pain.

Youji took his hand tightly, hugging him close, “Makoto!” He shouted with all the might he could muster, “Makoto...” Youji was so beautiful when he cried, Makoto thought. He was crying for his sake, crying his name; it felt good. It felt so disturbingly good. Makoto reached up to wipe the tears on Youji’s face.

His hand never reached Youji. It was swatted down by a sandaled foot and stamped into the ground. Makoto grunted in pain and glared up at Zenya, spitting at his ankle as he applied more pressure onto his hand. Makoto grunted in pain again, refusing to scream.

“You...you’re trying to take Youji away from me!” Zenya hissed, his arm circled Youji’s waist and hoisted him up. Immediately, Youji resisted and tried to scramble out of his grip. Zenya took no notice and gripped into Youji tighter, “You’ll never take him away!”

Kitani knelt down, holstering his gun. His face showed remorse and guilt. He sat Makoto up slowly, gently removing Zenya’s foot from his hand, “Shall I take him away?” To the hospital, he meant secretly. He knew if he said that out loud, Zenya would refuse.

“Makoto...” Youji cried, reaching for his friend, wrestling in Zenya’s grip, “Mako...” He dug his nails into Zenya’s arm; his desire for resistance was slowly building up. All that time Zenya had spent ‘training’ Youji was going to waste.

Zenya swallowed deeply, Youji wouldn’t be his any longer unless he did something, “No,” He muttered quickly. Kitani and Makoto’s attention immediately drifted to Zenya, “Tie him up. Take him to the shed,” Kitani paused but eventually complied. Zenya proceed to the shed, dragging Youji along with him.

“Makoto...” He whimpered weakly. He clutched Zenya’s shirt tightly, making pleading whimpering sounds with him in attempt to discourage his capture of Makoto. He frantically kicked the ground; his foot met Zenya’s school satchel which was situated by the edge of the shed. Zenya had forgotten to pick it up for class.

Zenya said nothing to him. He took no heed of his actions. He merely entered the shed again, his face betraying none of the murderous rage welled in his heart.

**XXX**

Once again, Youji was trapped in the shed with all the blinds closed. He was bound to the pillar, his mouth gagged again by that same filthy cloth. Only now, Makoto lay there with him stripped down to his boxer shorts with his ankles and wrists bound with rope. Kitani obediently left the shed while Zenya had gone inside to find “tools”.

Makoto wrestled with the rope but found the knots too skilfully tied to shake off. Whenever he tried to wrestle his legs free, the wound in his thigh would erupt in a mass of pain. Blood would gush out from the crude wound and Youji would squirm and cry out underneath his gag, begging him to stop struggling.

He couldn’t free himself. He couldn’t free Youji. Makoto almost broke down from the helplessness of his situation. Then he remembered...

“Shironuma...” Makoto murmured, his voice strained from the intense pain in his leg. Youji looked to him, eyes wide and pleading, “Shironuma knows you’re here...” Loud footsteps clambering down the stairs interrupted their conversation. Zenya had returned.

His face was unreadable. It was unlike anything anyone had seen before. It was absolutely inhuman. Without a care for Makoto’s wound, Zenya flipped him onto his back and stepped down on his chest, forcing the air out of his lungs slowly. Makoto sputtered, unable to move due to the throbbing wound on his thigh.

“Let Youji go!” He hissed, “He can’t even speak, can he? You monster!”

A monster. That’s what everyone else called him.

“Don’t call me that!” Zenya growled, sitting himself on Makoto’s lower torso. A blade came down fast on Makoto’s flesh. Neither Youji nor Makoto saw where it came from. They only watched in horror as it traced crimson lines all over Makoto’s chest.

The pain was excruciating but Makoto refused to scream. Zenya wanted him to scream. He wanted Youji to feel pain at his cries. If there was no other way to resist Zenya, Makoto vowed he would suppress his screams till his last breath.

Makoto’s head lolled back, maintaining firm eye contact with Youji. His eyes betrayed none of the excruciating pain his body was experiencing. He endured it all, just like how he endured the twisted affection that had been brutally smothered by Youji’s interest in Tetsuo. Makoto was not aware of how passionate his eyes looked. Even in such dire circumstances, Youji felt kind warmth enveloping him.

Unsatisfied with Makoto’s lack of vocal response, Zenya guided his knife over to Makoto’s nipple, slicing it with the tip of his knife, “How does it feel?” Zenya mocked as Makoto desperately tried to suppress a scream. His fist abruptly came in contact with Makoto’s chin, “Stop staring at Youji!” Another punch came to his stomach, knocking the wind out of him as well as stretching the cuts all over his stomach.

Makoto grunted in pain at each kick Zenya delivered to his torso. He turned away from Youji, not wanting him to see his face squeezed together tightly in an attempt to shut out the pain. Youji could only watch as his friend was brutally assaulted by his cruel captor. His flesh was bleeding and blackened.

Zenya pressed Makoto down onto his chest, sitting upon his wounded thighs sending a wave of pain convulsing through his system, “Say it...” Zenya muttered, blade against Makoto’s back, “Say you want nothing to do with Sakiyama Youji,” Makoto twisted his head around, mouthing a short ‘fuck you’ to his face. Zenya spat in his face, “Say it. Or I’ll make it worse,” He dug his knife into his flesh, deeper than those fleeting cuts he had made before; “I’ll make your body say it for you!” A sudden flash of anger erupted from Zenya. Brutally, he carved the statement into Makoto’s back.

Sobbing could be heard but it wasn’t from Makoto. Uncontrollably, Youji cried as he watched Makoto being tortured by Zenya. He was suffering for his sake. He was enduring it all for his sake. Everything Makoto did was for his sake.

With a strained grunt, Zenya flipped Makoto onto his side, letting Youji see the vivid red letters carved into his supple body.

_I want nothing to do with Sakiyama Youji_

The words that defiled his body couldn’t be further from Makoto’s true feelings. Despite the aching wounds on his body, Makoto forced himself onto his back. He grunted in the sharp jolt of pain from the cruel message upon his back but did nothing more. His eyes once again locked with Youji’s. And suddenly, the pain wasn’t that bad.

“Stop looking at him...” Zenya hissed quietly, “Stop trying to take him away!” Another strip of cloth appeared and came around Makoto’s eyes, preventing him from making eye contact with Youji.

There was a moment of silence where Zenya did nothing to him. Puzzled, Makoto jerked his head around, trying to shake off the blindfold. Suddenly, Youji’s muffled whimpers interrupted the silence with a frantic tone. An ominous feeling crept up on Makoto as Youji’s muffled cries got desperately louder.

It was too late for him to comprehend what was happening. A second later, Zenya pressed a taser against Makoto’s right pectoral sending a hurricane of unrelenting pain spiralling through his body. It nearly killed him to withhold his scream.

\---

Makoto had left. Tetsuo wasn’t surprised. He hoped Makoto had successfully found Youji and escaped or figured out Zenya was only a false lead. Wishful thinking, Tetsuo silenced his pointless thoughts. As he headed to his final class, he noticed that Zenya was also absent from his seat.

“Yo,” He muttered to a few girls in the hallway, “Have any of you seen Okinaga?”

“No, he didn’t come back after lunch. I wonder what happened.”

“Idiot,” Tetsuo muttered under his breath, running in another direction. The girls watched him in confusion wondering where the sudden outburst came from.

Tetsuo put the pieces together quickly. Why wouldn’t Zenya come back from lunch? Whether Youji was with Zenya or not, Makoto was definitely in danger. He rushed to the door, only to be stopped by Kamiya who had been leaving the teacher’s lounge.

“Oh? Shironuma,” He greeted, “Shouldn’t you be going to class?”

Should he tell Kamiya? What harm could it do? In the worse case, Kamiya will leave. In the best case, Kamiya could assist him. After all, Kamiya must have had some reason interrogating him by the gate two days before.

“It’s Mita,” Tetsuo muttered quickly, “I think Mita is in danger,” Kamiya said nothing at first, brow raising curiously, “Excuse me,” Tetsuo added as he pushed past Kamiya and ran out the building. He concluded that Kamiya had no interest in his issue and he had no time to waste trying to convince him.

A young, blonde teacher walked by, glancing curiously at Kamiya as he watched Tetsuo suspiciously, “Kamiya-sensei? Is something wrong?”

“Please take over for my class. I have something to do.” Kamiya fled after Tetsuo, leaving a very puzzled teacher behind. Why did Kamiya look so serious?

Thanks to Tetsuo’s good physique, he was already in close proximity of the train station and still not exhausted. During his run, Tetsuo contemplated what he would do. Obviously, Zenya was already home which meant Kitani would not be leaving the premise. What could he do if Kitani was there to protect Zenya?

Locate Makoto and call the cops if necessary, Tetsuo decided that was the best course of action. Zenya’s feeble physical strength wasn’t a problem for him. An armed bodyguard who was a former yakuza was the real threat. It was a high risk situation. If he was caught, there’d be no one to save either of them. And Youji, if he was captured by Zenya, there’d be no one left who could save him.

“That idiot,” Tetsuo hissed at Makoto under his breath. He made this situation so much more difficult then it needed to be.

“Shironuma!” Someone called him from behind. A grey car pulled up beside him, windows already rolled down.

“Kamiya sensei,” Tetsuo replied, puzzled that Kamiya had followed him, “What are you doing here?”

“Come on, I’ll drive you to the Okinaga residence.”

Tetsuo wasted no time. He climbed into the front seat of Kamiya’s car and the two drove off together. Kamiya was eerily silent as he drove with an unusually solemn expression on his face. Tetsuo began to wonder if he had made the right choice.

“Kamiya sensei,” He started, “How’d you know I was going to the Okinaga residence?” That was one perplexing question. He knew Kamiya disliked Okinaga but how did he know Tetsuo was going to investigate Zenya?

Kamiya waited till he reached a red light. His car rolled to a stop, “I suspected Okinaga since his father stopped returning my calls. It’s not like Kunihito to ignore me. I searched his house once but found nothing. Still, I’m not convinced he’s innocent.” His voice was tinged with a Sherlock Holmes-like dignity.

If it were anyone naive, they would have swallowed everything Kamiya said. Tetsuo on the other hand, sensed something was amiss. What does Zenya’s father have to do with anything? This begged another question that the school always wondered: Why did Kamiya hate Zenya? There was a clear cut difference between a teacher hating a class clown and the misery Kamiya brought down upon Zenya every time they crossed each other’s path.

Since Kamiya was going to be his ally, Tetsuo decided not to probe too deeply into this. Though, it’d be suspicious to swallow everything he said without a bit of resistance, “Is that the only reason why you’re helping me?”

Kamiya shot a toothy smile at Tetsuo. It was sweet, fatherly, and in Tetsuo’s eyes, thoroughly deceptive, “I am a doting teacher after all. It’s my duty.”

Tetsuo said nothing more. He’d already lost his first ally due to his erratic nature. No matter how suspicious or insincere Kamiya was, Tetsuo had to trust him or else he’d never be able to rescue Makoto and ultimately Youji.

The ride was not long; traffic was sparse since school had not ended yet. The two stopped a block away from the Okinaga residence. Unlike Makoto, Kamiya knew a brief plan was necessary. Tetsuo was glad for at least that.

“I’ll greet Kitani at the door and distract him. I searched the house before and I couldn’t find Youji so if he’s in Zenya’s captivity, he’s not in the house.”

“His bodyguard is the only one I’m worried about. If it’s just Zenya, I can take him down.”

“As expected from you, Shironuma!” Kamiya commented with joyful enthusiasm. Again, Tetsuo thought, what a strange reaction, “As soon as you see Kitani by the door, get in through the back. You’ll have to climb the fence but I’m sure someone like you can do it.”

With a nod, acknowledging their plan, the two left the car and made their way to the Okinaga house.

\---

A single tap to his flesh sent a spasm quivering through his flesh and up his spine. The sound of Zenya’s emotionlessly cruel voice felt like a hammer had come down on his skull. Or maybe, a hammer really had come down on his skull just like it had come down on his legs, further crippling his already injured appendage. Was he still alive? The blindfold prevented Makoto from checking.

And then he caught Youji’s scent, reassuring that he was still alive. It was pungent with sweat, but still faintly emitting from Youji’s weak body. It was so weak before, or maybe it was never weak; his torture just dampened his ability to smell it. He felt his body dragged against the floor, wound on his chest and forelegs stretching as it scraped against the floor. He had bitten his lip to prevent himself from crying but ended up reducing his lips to nothing but torn flesh. Had Zenya dragged him over to Youji?

 Fingers pried Makoto’s mouth open, smearing wet blood all over his face. Makoto felt something long, hard, and warm in his mouth. He would’ve screamed and struggled if hadn’t heard the whiny stifled moans coming from Youji, hadn’t caught that tinge of sweet aroma against the foreign flesh in his mouth.

Makoto’s eyes widened under the blindfold in realization of what he was doing. It was Youji. Inside his mouth was...

Oh god.

“If you love him so much,” Zenya hissed, “Why don’t you suck him off?” His hand remained firm on the back of Makoto’s head. He reached his other hand up and smeared Makoto’s blood upon Youji’s pale skin.

Brutally, Zenya thrust Makoto’s head back and forth, pushing Youji’s shaft right down his throat with each forward push. Makoto gagged at the sensation of a foreign object penetrating his throat but... _it was Youji..._ And his moan, even through the gag, was still so _arousing_. The current state of his body and the force at which Zenya pushed his head down was more than enough to prevent Makoto from reaching any form of excitement. In any other case, Makoto would’ve come at the idea of pleasuring Youji. He had wanted this for so long...

Youji’s breathing quickened. It almost sounded like he was hyperventilating. Was Youji enjoying this? Makoto wanted him to if nothing else. His blindfold was getting shaken off as the thrusts quickened. With one more pump, the blindfold slipped off his eyes and fell over his nose. Makoto glanced up at Youji’s face; his eyes met the arousing flush on Youji’s cheeks, the lusty, tear-filled eyes. Just like before, the two locked their eyes in an affectionate gaze and suddenly all their suffering faded away.

The passion in Makoto’s tortured gaze pushed Youji to his climax. Zenya jerked Makoto’s head back at a painful angle, letting him come onto his face and hair. Youji’s voice was so clean and pure when he climaxed even when muffled by a gag; Makoto lost himself in it just like Youji’s scent.

Overwhelming shame overtook Youji. His body was racked in pleasure from the cruel torture inflicted upon Makoto. It was enough. Makoto didn’t deserve to suffer anymore. Youji wept from the helplessness of it all and the shame of his bodily reaction.

“Youji...” Makoto whispered, throat soar from the brutal sex act he was forced to do, “It isn’t your fault. Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Even in their darkest moment, even when humiliated to the breaking point, Makoto tried to protect him from the guilt of all that had happened. It touched Youji’s heart so tenderly. He couldn’t keep up his loving gaze. Makoto hung his head in exhaustion, his cheek settling itself against Youji’s soft, white thigh.

“Mako-chan,” Zenya murmured in a sing song voice, “Why do you care so much about Yoi-chan? You know he loves Tet-chan.” It was a contradiction in Zenya’s mind. Youji was his and only his but he knew this false truth would break Makoto.

Youji could feel Makoto’s body weaken at the words. Whether it was from the pain of his wounds or the pain of Zenya’s words, Youji could feel hot tears trickling down the thigh where Makoto rested his head. Soft sobs came from Makoto, unheard to Zenya or Youji. Rather, Youji felt them on his sensitive flesh. So desperately Youji wanted to tear his arms free and clutch Makoto close to him. All he could do was watch his dearest friend suffer physically and mentally for his sake.

_Makoto...I didn’t know..._

The sobbing ceased. Makoto lifted himself from Youji’s body, head still hanging to avoid meeting with Youji’s eyes. He coughed first, hacking up remnants of his torture onto the floor. With his remaining strength, Makoto shot a smirk up at Zenya, despite hot tears and come dripping all over his face.

“I don’t care if he loves anyone else. I’ll still care for him no matter what.” His words lolled in his mouth, lips too damaged to properly pronounce them, “I know Youji won’t be mine...but he won’t be yours either.”

Who was the torturer and who was the victim?

Zenya was struck so deeply by Makoto’s final act of resistance. He could only stare at him as rage slowly boiled within him. He struck Makoto across the face, unable to hold in his fury. Youji squealed loudly beneath the gag, desperately wanting to protect his friend. Makoto was unable to struggle anymore. He lay on the ground, staring weakly at the ceiling as Zenya sat on his chest and choked him.

To lose his heart to Sakiyama Youji

To lose his mind to Sakiyama Youji

To lose his health to Sakiyama Youji

It only seemed fitting to lose his life too.

He felt everything going. Zenya’s hate-filled speech felt hushed. The intense pain from his tortured body and bone-snapping pressure against his neck was melting into a numb pain. Youji’s fleeting scent pained him the most. If he was going to die, let him take that gentle perfume with him to the afterlife.

The intensity of the moment masked the entrance of an amorous hero who made his way down the stairs.

The pressure lifted from Makoto’s throat abruptly. Immediately, he pulled in a large breath of air, rolling to his side to clear his breathing passages. Makoto’s face came in contact with a white running shoe covered by black dress pants.

“Mita, are you alright?” That low, rumbling voice was the second most pleasant sound Makoto had heard today. That voice meant Makoto could live a bit longer in the same world with Youji.

Tetsuo tackled Zenya down, the shove before not enough to knock him out cold. A knife was clutched tightly in Zenya`s hand but Tetsuo was unafraid of the weapon. Thank god for Tetsuo`s perfect physique, Makoto thought. In mere minutes of wrestling, Tetsuo got his hands in a fistful of Zenya`s hair and knocked him unconscious against the floor.

Tetsuo immediately went to Makoto first since his condition looked far more critical. Slowly, he untied him and laid him on his side, judging that position would put the least pressure on his wounds. He almost sprinted over to Youji`s side afterwards. His hands undid the gag, wiping off the tears and blood in the process.

“Sakiyama, you’re safe now. He won’t do anything else to you.” His words echoed Makoto’s first rescue attempt. Makoto couldn’t help but think how much nicer they sounded coming from Tetsuo’s mouth. As soon as Tetsuo untied Youji, he pulled him into a deep embrace.

The embrace was appreciated but short-lived. A second later, Youji pulled away, weakly dragging himself over to Makoto’s side. His hands came around Makoto’s head, avoiding wounds as best as he could. He clutched Makoto against his chest. Sad sobs and gasps were all Youji could manage to say to him.

With his face pressed gently into Youji’s chest, Makoto felt his senses overload with that sweet perfume Youji emitted. The beating of his heart quickened despite the fact adrenaline from his torture had already been accelerating his heart rate. The sight of Youji’s pale face, the feeling of Youji’s cold, frail fingers against his cheek, the gentle sound of Youji’s heart beating beside his ear, and the salty taste of a teardrop that fell upon his face, all these sweet sensations together lifted all his senses into a state of euphoria. It wasn’t just the scent. _It wasn’t just the scent he wanted._

“We have to get out of here,” Tetsuo muttered quickly. He could tell both were in feeble health despite the lack of critical wounds on Youji’s body, “Mita, it’s going to hurt when I carry you. Just hang on and don’t die on us,” Makoto nodded weakly to his words, still pressed against Youji’s chest.

His consciousness was fading. He was glad that Tetsuo came to rescue both of them yet in the deepest crevice of his heart, Makoto hated it. He knew how this would play out. Youji would fall for his brave, heroic Tetsuo. And what did that leave Makoto with? Would he obsess over Youji like Zenya had? In the darkest side of him, Makoto knew he would and he hated himself for it. Would he hate Youji too? He didn’t ever want to...

“Youji...” Makoto whispered as Tetsuo lifted both of them. With his last fleeting bit of consciousness, he had to confirm that he’d never hate Youji. He had to engrave this truth in his mind and make sure it was never contradicted. He’d never hate Youji; on the contrary, “I love Sakiyama Youji.”

\---

A trail of blood on the sidewalk was Kamiya’s prompt to leave. Kitani also spotted the trail of blood but said nothing of it. Kamiya slipped a piece of paper into his hands.

“Go to Toshima. There are other people of my...organization who would be happy to protect Zenya from the police.” That cheerful-attitude Kamiya carried into his classes was absent. His voice was distant and cold especially when it mentioned Zenya’s name. He stood and left without a word.

Kitani tucked the paper into his coat pocket and immediately rushed to the shed. The door was still open; Tetsuo did not have any reason to close it. Kitani made his way down, not pausing even at the sickening amount of blood smearing the floors. His hands came around Zenya’s unconscious form, cradling him close.

“Young master...Zenya...” He murmured into Zenya’s hair, “God, forgive me,” He betrayed Zenya for his own morals. In anyone else’s sense, it would have been the right thing to do. In his own sense, he felt he committed an act against his nature. He lifted Zenya lovingly into his arms and left the filthy shed.

**XXX**

_I can’t stand seeing them together. It hurts seeing them together, seeing them hold each other, caress each other. God, I just want to pry his damn hands off of my Youji. I can’t stand seeing Shironuma flirt with Youji at his desk._

_I can’t control my body. I’m already standing between them, telling Shironuma off for doing absolutely nothing. He must be playing around with Youji. I heard he plays around with girls. The nerve of him, targeting my Youji._

_My Youji..._

_Why are you stopping me? You’re protecting him, aren’t you? Why do you want to protect him? You’re mine. You should be backing me up, not him! Let go of me! I want to hurt this guy for tainting my Youji!_

_I can’t keep thinking like this. My heart breaks when I see them together. I just have to accept this. But it’s too hard! Why does Youji have to be such a goddamn tease?_

_What’s that Youji? Can you speak up? I can’t hear you over the wordless screams coming from your soft...pale...pink...god your lips are sweet. Is it that ‘No’? Are you saying ‘No’ to me because I’m not Shironuma? But I can’t stop now, you feel so good inside. And with this, you’re mine. I’ll never give you to Shironuma. You’ll never become Shironuma’s. You’ll always, always, always be mine._

_I want you inside me too. Inside, outside, all over, that sweet flavour all over my mouth...I think I hate you. I hate you for making me like this. Sakiyama Youji, I wish I could forget your existence. Why must you pollute my heart with your existence?_

“I love Sakiyama Youji.”

_No...No I don’t. That’s not me. I’m not saying that. I never loved Youji. I never loved him. He never broke my heart. Stop lying to me! Oh god, what have I done? Youji, come back to me. No, he’s inside me. If I tear myself apart, will he come out from me?_

_I want to see him again but I...I’m a monster._

Makoto screamed, waking up on a hospital bed. His body covered in bandages with his leg in a cast. Kamiya, who had dozed off beside him, fell off his chair at the sudden outburst, “Mita!” He exclaimed, pulling himself onto his feet, “Are you alright?”

A nurse immediately entered the room, checking Makoto’s body for any torn stitches while Makoto collected himself from his dream, “Youji...is Youji okay?”

“He’s in another room with Shironuma.” Kamiya replied, “He’s stable but he’ll need to be in the hospital till his nutritional level is back to normal,” Kamiya say down on the edge of the bed, “Anyway, what were you dreaming about?”

He couldn’t say. It wasn’t a dream to him. It felt like an alternate reality where Zenya hadn’t succeeded in kidnapping Youji and he was the one who ended up going insane. Makoto couldn’t bring himself to describe that alternate reality.

Realizing Makoto had no intention to describe his dream, Kamiya changed the subject, “Anyway, Mita, you were really brave jumping in there to save Sakiyama. I think the student body would be happy to crown you and Shironuma heroes.”

“I wasn’t being brave.” It was true. He was just acting on his instincts, “I just love him,” Kamiya didn’t know how to respond, “I’m an idiot. Youji’s in love with Shironuma and I just can’t let that go. I wasn’t being brave. I was being stubborn.” He wasn’t much better than Zenya in his eyes.

_“I love Sakiyama Youji.”_

“Damn it, why did I confess to him like that?” Makoto shouted, mostly at himself, “I’m such an idiot!”

A scowl of dissatisfaction flashed across Kamiya’s face. In Makoto’s current emotional state, he was unable to gauge that hateful expression. Was Kamiya angry about his confession? Whatever for? “Anyway,” Kamiya said again, brushing the topic aside, “Why don’t you visit Sakiyama? The nurse said you can walk as long as you have crutches and assistance.”

Makoto nodded gently and got on his feet slowly, leaning on Kamiya for support. Taking baby steps, the two left the room. Makoto spied the calendar on the wall. He had passed out for an entire day. He had expected a beating of that magnitude would have knocked him out for longer. It was a miracle that he was awake so soon and that he could still manage to move like a normal human.

“Sakiyama,” Kamiya called out, knocking on the partially opened door.

Weakly, Makoto peeked in passed the door. He almost crumbled to the ground, pain catching up with him.

The pleasant sunset bathed the room in a soft, vanilla glow, blanketing the honey-blonde who had his strong, protective arms wound around Youji’s thin, pale body. Youji’s weak hands, usually pale as snow, were dyed golden by the pleasant sun he had long forgotten. Those weak hands rested firmly on Tetsuo’s back, planted there as if it was where they truly belonged.

Tetsuo’s left hand stroked circles on the small of Youji’s back, coaxing him to relax in his embrace. His other hand caressed up his sleeved arm till it touched the edge of his neck. From that point, he used the tips of his fingers to trace Youji’s thin cheek and play with the strands of loose hair over his ears. His lips came down gently onto Youji’s hair and met no resistance. Both his hands came around Youji’s face, reminiscent to the way he kissed Makoto a while ago.

Makoto forced himself to watch. He forced himself to engrave this heartbreaking image into his mind: “I love Sakiyama Youji. But Sakiyama Youji loves...”

“No,” The rejection was soft and quiet. Kamiya and Makoto almost missed it. Tetsuo heard it as if Youji shouted it into his ear, “No,” Youji repeated, a bit more firmly. His hands pulled Tetsuo’s warm hands off his cheek. He held them for a second, staring at them intensely. As if it was painful for him to look at Tetsuo, Youji craned his neck up slowly to stare into the broader man’s eyes. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. His ability to speak had yet to return. He could only shake his head, turning his gaze downward afterwards.

Tetsuo swallowed rejection quietly. Was he heartbroken? Probably; he pulled Youji into one final embrace before letting him go. It was only then did the two see Kamiya and Makoto waiting by the door. Youji’s face lit up at the sight of Makoto.

Makoto didn’t know how to react. Tetsuo approached him too quickly for him to collect his conflicting emotions. Instead, Makoto took a step forward to greet him, “Shiro-,” No, they were past this, “Tetsuo,” Makoto bowed, unintentionally stretching his wounds in the process. He held in the pain, his respect for Tetsuo acting as the anaesthesia, “Thank you for saving me. I owe you.”

“And thank you for saving Youji. We wouldn’t have been able to without you, _Makoto_.” Makoto’s name sounded nice in that deep voice. Makoto was starting to understand what Youji had fallen in love with Tetsuo. Both exchanged a firm handshake. Though both still rivals-in-love, at least they no longer held a grudge against one another.

Makoto couldn’t help but notice how large Tetsuo’s hands were. They were also much warmer than Youji’s hands. They felt nice against his bandaged fingers.

“Falling for me, Makoto?” Tetsuo joked in a comically sultry voice.

“Oh shut up,”

A small chuckle from Youji called their attention. A smile was on his face, innocent and sweet. They could all tell Youji hadn’t smiled like that in a long time. Makoto found himself dumbfounded by Youji’s gentle expression. When was the last time he had seen such a pleasant emotion on Youji’s face? Tetsuo gave him a quick pat on the shoulder, accidentally making Makoto cringe from a jolt of pain.

“Go get him,” He whispered to Makoto. A blush immediately reached Makoto’s cheek. He scrambled over to Youji, almost tripping over his crutches in the process. He looked over to Kamiya, seeing a seething face masked by false satisfaction, “What happened to Okinaga?”

“The cops said Kitani and Okinaga were nowhere to be seen. The rooms were cleared of personal belongings. They ran away.” Kamiya fixed his glasses, “Kitani fled with Okinaga to protect him.”

“That’s to be expected,” Tetsuo added, aware of Kitani utter devotion to his young master. He glanced back at Youji and Makoto. Tetsuo believed it was right for Makoto to win Youji’s heart. Nonetheless, rejection was bitter but easier to swallow.

“Youji,” Makoto’s voice sounded overly eager, “I’m really glad you’re alright! You look well, better than usual! Um...not that you didn’t look good, I didn’t mean it like that. Youji always looks great,” The words spilled out from his mouth. He had so much to say to him yet so little time to prepare it all, “About that confession, I’m sorry for confessing at such a stupid time. You had more than enough of that, didn’t you?” Makoto cut himself off quickly, afraid he had offended Youji in anyway. Still, Youji kept that pleasant smile on his face “Let me confess again. Can I?” He reached out, taking Youji’s hands, regretting that his hands were covered in bandages and not in direct contact with Youji’s supple skin.

“Sakiyama Youji, I like you a lot.” He was sounding like a little kid. A throaty chortle from Tetsuo sparked a bit of rage in him, “Sakiyama Youji,” Makoto repeated, stronger, fuelled by Tetsuo’s mocking chuckle, “I love you!”

A hand left Makoto’s grasp and gently stroked Makoto’s cheek. The fingers were cold, contrasting the burning flush on his face. Youji swallowed, summoning all his strength to say this: “My hero,” He leaned in closer, a gentle blush appearing on his cheeks too.

Makoto leaned forward and closed the gap between their lips. His mouth still stung from the abuse he had received from Zenya but not even pain could desecrate his first kiss with the one he loved. His hands were lost at first but soon found themselves in their proper positions: one resting in the small of Youji’s back and the other nestled in his soft, dark locks. Youji’s hands followed after, both clutching to the back of Makoto’s hospital shirt weakly.

A gentle, saccharine perfume, warm and safe in each other’s embrace, the world around them soaked in golden sunlight, the gentle taste of soft, pleading lips against one another. That which Makoto most desired was snuggled deeply in his embrace.

Tetsuo and Kamiya watched from afar, not wanting to break the romantic atmosphere “Isn’t that sweet?” Kamiya commented softly. Tetsuo couldn’t help but sense a tinge of sarcasm in his voice. He disregarded it for the moment, letting the room settle in amorous silence.

**XXX**

The pitch black vehicle was pulled to the edge of the street. There wasn’t a building in sight, only trees and the morning sky. Kitani sat in the drivers’ seat, examining a map and mumbling to himself as he tried to figure out where to go. Zenya sat in the passengers’ seat, unmoving, unmotivated.

“Young master, we should be arriving in Toshima soon,” Zenya did not respond, “I’ll protect you from everyone. I promise.” His voice was warm and sincere. His attention returned to the map, trying to figure out where they were.

“...Kitani,” Zenya whispered. It was the first word he had mentioned since he had awakened, “Why are you doing this? I’m a monster. Why would anyone care about me?” He murdered his father, kidnapped and raped an innocent man, tortured and almost brutally killed one who was trying to stop him. Makoto’s words were right. Everyone was right. _He was a monster_.

A hand came around Zenya’s head, gently pulling it upon Kitani’s shoulder. He wrapped his arm around him, so they could both examine the map, “It doesn’t matter to me what you’ve done. I’ll still care for you no matter what.” Zenya felt like he had heard those words before. They were now directed to him and he found himself unable to resist the tears in his eyes.


End file.
